Shelter You
by generationloki
Summary: Thor had told Steve about his little brother, but he could in no way have realised before how much Loki would impact on his life.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes:** So I've had this written for a very long time now, and I've only just decided to publish it. The next chapter is about 4k words in and only just beginning!  
I do love my Frostiron, but I've wanted to write Stoki for a while.  
I hope you enjoy :)  
Thank you, thank you, thank you to Yara for helping me plan this out and for doing a fantastic beta'ing job! And thanks to Rahel for being oh so wonderful :3 and thanks to Sam for reading this and giving me inspiration x

* * *

_I wanna hide the truth_  
_I wanna shelter you_  
_But with the beast inside_  
_There's nowhere we can hide_

_No matter what we breed_  
_We still are made of greed_  
_This is my kingdom come_  
_This is my kingdom come_

_When you feel my heat_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide _

* * *

Steve shouldered into the cold, the wind stabbing into his face like shards of ice. He could feel his ears and the tip of his nose going pink from the cold. He remembers _him_ touching his cheeks, the tips of his ears. _Him_ laughing about how cute he looked. Before _he_ left, that is.

It was winter then and it was winter once again.

He shrugged into his jacket further, pulling it across his muscular frame, and hunched over in an attempt to hold out the cold. Steve didn't like the cold. Despised it, hated it even. Hated the chill it left in his bones and the memories it brought a long with it.

He spied the usual café just down the street and started shuffling his way through the crowd toward it. The sky was cloudy, promising of rain. Steve just hoped it wouldn't start snowing just yet.

He stepped in through the door of the little café, the bell tinkling familiarly. Steve had been coming there for years now, and even met his best friend there. He looked over at his usual table and there his best friend sat, wrapped up in a tartan shirt pushed up to his elbows, exposing muscled arms.

"Steve," Thor called, grinning widely. He waved an arm, despite being the only patron in the café.

Steve smiled back and walked over, slinging his jacket over the back of his chair. "Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"Fine, fine," Thor said, his grin still plastered upon his face. "How was work?"

Steve sighed and wrapped his hand around the warm cup of hot chocolate that Thor had presumably ordered for him. He shrugged. "The usual, you know. Poor kids." He blew on his drink and sipped it, relishing the creamy hot liquid sliding down his throat. He hummed appreciatively.

Thor nodded. He threw back the last of his own hot chocolate and waved a hand, signaling another.

"How's construction?"

"Absolute hell now that the winter is arriving. It seems you are not the only one who is less than fond of the cold."

Steve threw him a crooked smile and took another sip of his drink. "Anyway," he huffed. "You've dragged me down here; what's up?"

Thor cocked a blond eyebrow. "What do you mean?" His smile faltered as Steve looked at him incredulously. "This is our weekly meet-up. I merely wanted to know how my friend was doing—"

"Thor," Steve sighed.

The other man worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, he gave in. "Okay," he said, running a hand through his long hair. "Yes, well. I just—it's Loki." The waitress set down a second mug of hot chocolate in front of Thor and he thanked her.

Steve nodded. Ah, Thor's adopted little brother. He had been told about him for years now. The troublesome brother that was always getting into havoc and mischief, and constantly was worrying Thor into a tizzy with his bad habits and crazy lifestyle. It was often that Thor spoke about him, how he was a genius in high school, top of the class for every subject, skipped two years ahead. But then he got into drugs and hadn't resurfaced until a little over a year ago.

Around the same time _he_ left.

Thor sighed loudly. "Steve, I worry about him. Ever since he left the rehab center, he's stopped talking to me. It's as if he's vanished from existence, but is still present in my life. Loki is... he is very difficult. But, I was wondering... maybe you could meet him? We're having a family dinner this weekend and Mother says that Loki has agreed to go. Will you come?"

"Um." Steve was taken aback. "Sure, sure, I guess."

Thor grinned widely. "Thank you. He is just getting over a bad breakup and I know that you have not been the happiest, so maybe setting you two up is the best idea."

"Whoa," Steve interjected, holding up a finger. "Wait a second. You mean a date? I don't think I'm ready for that, Thor. Especially with someone like Loki—no offence meant. He just sounds like a handful."

Thor pouted and took a sip of his drink. "But it will be good for you both! And with you being a youth worker, maybe you will be able to help him get his life back on track."

"Yes, I'm a _youth_ worker. Loki is a grown man. What is he, twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

"He will be twenty-four in January."

"Twenty-four! Thor, he's not a little kid, any more. Let him live his life the way he wants. You can't protect him or mollycoddle him anymore. Loki needs to learn from his own mistakes." He raised his eyebrows at Thor and pursed his lips.

Thor closed his eyes in defeat, his shoulders slumping. "Steve... I just think that you can convince him to not go back into that dark place he was in."

"Thor, I—"

"Please, help him," Thor pleaded with wide eyes. "Help him like I couldn't."

Steve rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. "Thor..." He looked his friend in the eye one more time before slumping forward again. "Fine. Fine, okay. I'll go to dinner, but don't get your hopes up. Just this one dinner, though. Alright?"

Thor's smile said a thousand words.

* * *

Tuesdays were grocery-shopping night. Steve went down to the local store at 8pm, he would gather his shopping— some bread, milk, a block of chocolate, some apples and cereal— and then return home at promptly 8:30pm. But on that night, it would be different.

Steve walked from his apartment, arriving at the local store right at 8:00. The old woman behind the counter smiled at him behind huge bifocals and Steve returned it. As usual, the other check out girls giggled behind their fingers as he walked in. Strategically, he made his way up and down the aisles. It was a much quieter night, with only a few people shopping around. He got to the fridges at 8:20 and was about to snatch up his normal brand of milk— the only one left— when someone else reached for it at the same time. Steve felt a shock run through his fingers like static electricity as they brushed up against another's. He quickly withdrew his hand and straightened up, an apology already halfway out of his throat.

But when his blue eyes met deep, sea green, the world seemed to stop turning. His breath stuttered and his speech faltered. Those beautiful, baleful eyes belonged to an equally beautiful, baleful man. The man had long ink black hair that curled just past his jawline and perfectly shaped and pierced eyebrows that were quirked up in annoyance. He had a lip piercing as well, a black ring that threaded through his bottom lip along with several earrings. The thin man— and boy, was he thin— was wearing a short-sleeved black shirt that showcased the several tattoos twining up those lean arms and skinny jeans to match. Heavy combat boots donned his elegantly pointed feet.

And in his pale, thin hands with black nails he held the carton of milk that belonged to Steve Rogers.

"Oh, hey, there," he stuttered. "Sorry, sir, but that's my milk you've got there."

The Thin Man smirked in amusement. "Oh, really," he said in a sexy English accent. "I believe it is my milk since I hold it in my own hands and you do not hold it in yours. What is it they say? Finders keepers." He licked his lips and smiled menacingly.

Steve's words tripped over his heavy tongue. "Oh, err, um."

The Thin Man chuckled deeply. It rumbled in his chest. "Very intelligent garble, I feel like I am in the presence of William Shakespeare himself."

Steve's mouth quirked up. No one had made him smile in a long while. There wasn't much to smile about these days. "I haven't seen you here before. Do you come here often?"

The Thin Man's eyes twinkled and a smile played about his lips. "Maybe I do. Maybe you simply weren't looking before."

With that he threw one last smirk at Steve and walked off, his hips swaying and his grocery basket swinging back and forth against his leg. Steve's mouth dropped open as his gaze locked on the thin man's entirely bare back, his muscles rippling under pale skin and the tattoo of the snake along his spine swimming up his back. He bit his lip in longing, and in his desperation picked up a random carton of milk, shoved it into his basket and followed the man to the register as if under a spell.

However, Steve was not expecting to have a competitor. A voluminous man was pressing himself up against the Thin Man's side, who was cringing and trying desperately to ignore the other man.

"Sweetheart, come on," the man was slurring. "We had a good time the other night. Just one more night..."

The Thin Man glared at him poisonously. "I don't think I could stand one more second with you, no matter an entire night. So, if you please, leave me the fuck alone immediately?"

The man turned beetroot red and clenched his meaty fists. "Listen to me right now, you whore-"

"Is there a problem?" Steve said, stepping in from behind them and smiling. Thankfully, he was both taller and more muscled than the large man. "Or do I have to do something I'll regret?"

The man sized him up before laughing. "Never mind, the bitch isn't worth it anyway."

"Excuse me," Steve cleared his throat loudly, "I don't think you need to be rude to him. Just leave now quietly, and you'll might just have all your limbs intact by the end of the night."

The voluptuous man glared at both Steve and the Thin Man before scoffing and stomping off. He slammed out of the grocery store. Once he was out of sight, the Thin Man began to relax just slightly.

Steve laid a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

The Thin Man adopted a sneer upon his face. "I am no invalid. I did not need your pitiful help," he spat. His gaze was almost poisonous. Although the man had the impression of toughness and anger, his quivering hands and tense shoulders said otherwise.

Steve was taken aback. "Look, buddy. That guy would have eaten you alive if it wasn't for me. A simple thank you wouldn't be too bad."

The Thin Man rolled his eyes and handed his basket to the check out. "Well, maybe I don't think that was deserving of a thank you. I was doing fine on my own."

"Hey, see here—"

"Twenty-eight, seventy-five," the nasally voice of the checkout girl interrupted their banter.

The Thin Man forked over thirty dollars and collected his change. He then gathered his bags into his arms. "Good night," he said to the checkout girl, before glaring at Steve once again. He stalked out of the grocery store and disappeared into the dark night.

Steve watched him as he left, confusion settling into his features. He leaned in close to the checkout girl and murmured, "Who was that? Have you seen him around before?"

She shrugged. "He used to come here often about a year ago. He was a handsome one. Then he just didn't turn up for months on end. Turned up again in September, looking like hell. Have you taken a fancy to him, sweetie?"

Steve looked at her immediately. "N-no. Um, maybe?" His cheeks flushed a dark red.

The girl smiled at him.

* * *

The week leading up to dinner at the Odinson's was filled with thoughts of the Thin Man. Steve found his daydreaming turn into visualizing his long, long legs that made him taller than himself. He just could not get his mind off of him. Steve couldn't recall having feelings this strong and sudden for a person since _him. _It was comforting at first, feeling something familiar, but soon these thoughts began to turn to uneasiness. If he was so head over heels for the Thin Man he'd barely even met, should he be going on a date with Thor's brother?

He was afraid to bring this up with Thor, the guy was texting him all week long about his excitement over the blind date. Steve didn't want to ruin his happy mood— it was like kicking a puppy. A really big, muscular, blond puppy. Not that Thor was as vulnerable as a puppy, Steve had seen him when he was angry and that was one of the scariest things he had ever experienced.

On that Saturday night, Steve had driven himself all the way out to Yggdrasil Place, a fair way outside the city. He adjusted his suit and collared shirt at the front door of the colossal house. There was no other way to describe it. It was huge. He remembered Thor telling him that his parents were wealthy. He raised his fist to the door, and knocked a few times. Steve could hear bustling coming from the inside and then shouting.

"Loki, get the door!" A gruff, male voice called out.

"It'll be Steve, Odin. I'll get it," a womanly voice replied.

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman was on the other side. She wore a long dress and cardigan, which soothed Steve's apprehension at being overdressed. She smiled widely. Thor had most definitely gotten his smile from his mother.

"Thor, Loki, Steve's here!" She called behind her shoulder. "Hello, dear, I'm Thor's mother. You may call me Frigga." Frigga held out a hand and Steve brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. This startled the woman.

"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Steve Rogers, Thor's friend," he replied with a shadow of a smile.

"Yes, I know. Thor has been telling us about you a lot. I'm sorry that we haven't met properly until now. We've had some... family issues to attend to and it's been keeping us very busy."

Steve nodded in understanding.

"It's so lovely of you to come along tonight," she said, happily. "We've been trying to get Loki back into dating, but as you may have heard, he is a very, um,_ difficult_ boy." Frigga stepped back from the door. "Please, come in out of the cold."

Steve gladly obliged, walking into the warm house. The smell of roast chicken and lamb assaulted his senses, making his mouth water. "It smells great, Mrs—I mean, Frigga."

Frigga nodded her thanks. "Thor and Jane are in the lounge. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes. Just let them know, dear." She disappeared into the kitchen.

Steve looked around and followed the quiet murmur of voices to his left. He entered a large room, engulfed in the light of a crackling fire. Thor and his wife Jane were cuddling on the couch, Thor's hand spread over her barely showing belly. A few weeks earlier, Thor had told him about his impending baby. Steve grinned at the sight.

"Good evening," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

The couple looked up in unison, a smile upon their faces.

"Steve!" Thor called. "You made it! Thanks for coming." He stroked Jane's slightly swollen belly.

Steve shrugged. "No problem. Um- your mother said to say that dinner's ready."

The two got up immediately, walking over to Steve hand in hand. Jane smiled at Steve politely and he returned the gesture. Thor clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "This night will be wonderful," he promised. "Loki will be most pleased."

"I hope so," Steve replied, thinking once again about the Thin Man.

"I think it's good you two are meeting," Jane piped up as they all walked to presumably the dining room. "The compatibility between the both of you remains unseen but our Thor here seems to be quite the match maker."

They reached the dining room that was no less rich and posh than the rest of the house. Frigga was sitting beside a short, rotund man with a white beard and an eye patch of all things at the head of the table. He was presumably Odin. The food was laid out carefully, steam rising from the plates of meat. Steve's mouth continued to water.

Thor's father gave Steve an intense look, almost like a scowl. "You are Steve Rogers?" He said with a slight Welsh accent.

Steve gulped and nodded. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Thor's friend. Sir," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Odin grumbled an agreement. "Well sit yourselves down. Thor, where is that brother of yours? Still upstairs?"

Thor sat down next to Odin, and Jane took a seat next to him. That left the opposite head seat and the one beside Frigga. Steve chose the latter.

"I believe so, father," Thor answered. "Would you like me to go and get him?" He was halfway out of his chair when the telltale footfalls of someone walking down the staircase were heard.

Steve looked behind him at the entrance, anxiety building up in his chest. To his complete and utter surprise, a familiar young man entered the room.

It was the Thin Man.

"Loki," Thor said, cheerfully with a hint of nervousness. "Thank you for joining us. This is my friend, Steve. I've been wanting to introduce the two of you for a while now."

'Loki' looked in Steve's direction lazily and stared at him for a good moment or two. "Thor," he drawled, without taking his eyes off of Steve. "If you really want to set me up on a date, you really have to get to know my type." He smirked playfully.

Steve's jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. It _was_ him!

And Loki seemed to recognize him too. Not that he let on.

Loki wore a white button down rolled to his elbows and black slacks. His piercings were still in and his hair was loose. His eyes were circled with eyeliner like the last he last saw him. Despite the change in clothes it was no doubting that it was him.

Loki's eyes fell onto his father and his jaw tightened before he turned to his mother. "Good evening, mother, Jane... Steve," he almost purred out Steve's name at the end while sending him a mischievous glance.

He looked pointedly at Odin who glared at him, before he sat himself down between Jane and Steve at the head of the table. Loki took the napkin, unfolded it carefully, with his black nails in full sight of a fuming Odin, and placed it in his lap.

Odin held his fork in his right hand and Steve could swear that it had bent. "I thought I told you to dress nice tonight," Odin said, slowly, narrowing his eye.

Loki stared back, defiantly. He threw his hands up, gesturing to his outfit. "Is this not better than my... what do you call them... my 'rent boy' clothes?"

"Loki," Frigga said, warningly.

"Yes, a big improvement. But take those blasted bits of metal out of your face," Odin said. "I will not have them in my house."

Loki raised his pierced eyebrow. "Oh? Shall I leave then?" He started to rise from his seat when Frigga fixed him with a look that made him sit back down. "I was just trying to fulfill my _father's_ wishes," he sneered.

"Okay," Thor interjected, loudly. "Shall we eat?"

"Wait a moment, son," Odin said. Jane and Steve shifted uncomfortably in their seats and shared an equally uneasy glance. "Loki, you are under my roof, and these are my rules and you will obey them."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Yes, _father_."

Odin looked partially satisfied with his adopted son's sarcastic response. He nodded at Thor then picked up his utensils and began piling his plate full of food. The others followed, and then Steve decided to get some of the delicious-smelling lamb and the Caesar salad. He kept flicking his gaze up at Loki, who was staring at his empty plate. Steve took the initiative and plucked the breadbasket from the table, putting it in Loki's field of vision. Loki blinked in surprise, then brought his gaze up to Steve in confusion. Steve gestured to the bread.

"Bread?" He asked, sheepishly.

Loki looked at the basket, then back to Steve before he nodded his thanks and placed a slice of buttered bread on his plate. A shadow of a smile danced across his lips. He soon partook in serving himself food.

The Odinson family plus one Steve Rogers began to eat.

As Steve looked around the table, he noticed that every member was tense. Frigga was nibbling her chicken, glaze flicking to her husband every now and again. Thor was shoveling down his food, but his shoulders were very stiff while Jane only picked at her lamb, taking small bites. Odin was ravaging his meat and salads. Steve finally looked at Loki, who was not even attempting to eat his food and was glaring at Odin.

Finally, Odin spoke up. "So, Thor how is the construction business?"

Thor nodded and said through the food in his mouth, "Yes, it is doing quite fine."

"And Loki? How is... life?"

Loki looked shocked for a split-second before he laughed nastily. "Odin, finally a moment in the day where you aren't yelling and actually attempting at being a civilized being. How... unsettling." Odin glared at Loki, before Frigga laid a hand on his fist. He took a deep breath. Loki sneered at the lack of reaction. "What's the matter with you? You aren't your usual bitter self. Or aren't I trying hard enough to piss you off?"

Odin set his jaw and shook his head. He continued to eat. Loki fumed and stabbed a piece of lettuce, before chewing it loudly. He put his fork down and then rolled up his sleeves further up his arms.

Apparently this was too much for Odin. Thor's father growled, "For goodness sake, Loki. Roll your damn sleeves down. No one wants to see your tattoos nor your disgusting track marks."

Steve noticed that there were indeed needle scars and dark veins near the crook of each of Loki's elbows. The tattoos were not enough to cover them up. He avoided his gaze.

Loki narrowed his eyes before stretching his arms out and giving a fake yawn, showcasing his scars to the whole table while smirking. Jane and Thor both looked away while Frigga let out a whimper and put her hand to her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut. The offender noticed his mother's distress and immediately lowered his arms, buttoning his sleeves down to his wrists.

Frigga lowered her hand and gave a grateful smile to Loki. It seemed that the two of them had a strong bond.

Thor piped up, "Steve's a youth worker."

"How nice–" began Frigga before Loki interrupted her.

"Of course he is," Loki spat, making Steve's heart sink. "Mr Perfect over here, always scrambling to help out."

"Well, I try," Steve said, challenging Loki.

"So a try-hard as well?"

"At least I try hard in making the world a better place than snarking at everyone at every given opportunity."

The two stared at each other for a long moment.

"Do you two know each other?" Jane asked, pointing between the couple with her fork.

"No," Loki said. "No, I've never seen him before in my lifetime."

"Nope," Steve said, popping the 'P'.

The dinner table was silent as they ate,

"So," Frigga said, serving herself some more salad. "How have you been keeping, Loki? We've barely seen you."

Odin grunted. The whole table turned to Loki. "Fine, fine," he murmured. "Adjusting."

"So have you found a proper job, yet?" Odin asked, gruffly.

"I _have_ a proper job," Loki hissed out. "I go to work every day, I get paid, I come home and I do whatever."

"'Do whatever'? What have you been shooting up now?"

"_Odin_," Frigga cried. "This is not a discussion to have at the dinner table. Let alone in front of a guest."

"It's very clear that our guest is a blind date for our failure of a son," Odin said, jabbing his knife viciously in Loki's direction.

"Father," Thor interjected in a warning voice. "Do not say these things."

"I'm not his date," Steve said.

Loki looked over at him and sneered. "Of course, our do-gooder Rogers over here. Aren't I good enough for you then?"

"N-no–, I mean you _are_ good enough. You're– um."

Loki's lips curled into a smirk. "Regular Shakespeare."

"Loki," Odin said. "We paid thousands of dollars for your rehab– I don't want _my_ money going to waste."

"To be completely honest, I don't give a fuck about you, Odin. You could drop dead right now and I'd break out a bottle of champagne."

"Loki Odinson!" Frigga gasped.

"We saved your life!" Odin shouted.

"My life did not need saving, I was better off without you all breathing down my neck!" Loki screamed at him, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table. The drinks and food fell over with the force of it. Steve jerked back in surprise.

"You're 23 years old and a homosexual druggie. You'll never do anything with your life, you'll forevermore be a burden on this family, Loki Laufeyson!" Odin yelled, standing as well.

"_I was never a part of this family in the first place_!"

"_You are a part of this family whether you like it or not_!" Odin shouted.

Steve shifted in his seat, casting his eyes down to his lap. He was jerked back into reality when Thor put a hand on his shoulder and led him out of the room, leaving Odin, Frigga and Loki to their fight.

Thor walked him to the front door. It was unspoken that it was time for him to leave.

"Sorry," his friend muttered. "I am ashamed at my family's behavior tonight. I truly thought–"

"Thor, it wasn't your fault. It's fine."

"All the same... let's go out for lunch tomorrow. It's on me. We'll go to that sandwich place you like. Please, let me do this for you."

Steve looked over Thor's shoulder toward Jane, who was nodding her head. He shrugged. "Alright, Thor."

Thor beamed and wrapped Steve up in a bone-crushing hug. "Good man." He let go. "So I will see you tomorrow at 12:30, good?"

Steve nodded. "Okay. And tell your parents I said thank you for having me. And let Loki know that it was nice to meet him." He turned on his heels and quickly walked toward his car, determined not to look back at the house that was full of shouts and yells.

At least he finally got to know the Thin Man a little better.

* * *

Steve walked into the sandwich store, Yara's Buns, shuddering from the escalating cold. It was warm in there, but not overly warm. He automatically headed for the counter, ordering his usual chicken and avocado sandwich. Steve thanked the boy serving him and collected his table number.

He scanned his eyes over the sea of heads for Thor, but was surprised when he was met with familiar sea-green eyes lined thickly with eyeliner staring at him.

Loki sat at a table in the corner, breaking a cookie in half and nibbling on one end. Steve raised his eyebrows and waved in his direction. Loki snorted and rolled his eyes. He took that as an invitation to walk over and sat down heavily in the seat opposite to him.

"Hey," he said, exasperated.

Loki smirked. "Good afternoon,"

"What are you doing here?"

"Thor told me you wanted to meet for lunch and I thought, why not?"

"Oh, that's nice."

Thor— that sneaky bastard.

Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I..." he began. "I apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was childish and unforgivable. And take note that I do not apologize often, so don't expect this in the future. This is a one off thing."

"Ah, so one apology per person type deal?"

Loki smiled softly, tilting his head to the side. "Something like that, yes."

Steve returned the smile.

"So what's up?" He asked weakly a moment later. His sandwich arrived and he nodded gratefully.

Loki hummed, tapping a finger to his lips. "Not much, really. I have to work after this so I may leave abruptly. But I'm just settling into my new apartment after having to stay with my parents for a few months. Which was less than pleasant, let me tell you."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, you seem to have a, well, a complicated relationship with your father."

"Complicated is a major understatement."

That made Steve chuckle again. Loki's lips quirked up at the side. He almost looked pleased at the reaction he had elicited. Soon after, they had launched into conversation, chatting away animatedly with each other about the little things in life. An hour had past by the time Loki decided to ask Steve:

"So how is your work? Thor said that you were a social worker of some kind?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically. "I'm a youth worker. It's quite interesting, keeps me on my toes."

Loki hummed and scratched absent-mindedly at the crook of his right elbow. Steve glanced away. "Anything particularly interesting at the moment?" Steve's eyes locked on the track marks on the other man's arms, but he forced himself to look away again.

"Well," he said. "There have been a few kids who've been kicked out of home, a few are going into foster care soon. And um... oh yeah, there was one kid, a sixteen old who's been taking pretty heavy drugs. Meth, I think."

Loki pursed his lips and was silent.

"Anyway, he had a hard time at home. Took drugs to keep his mind off of it. We're tapering him off and the withdrawals are—"

Loki _laughed_.

Steve raised an eyebrow. He paused in his speech. "What?"

The next thing Steve knew, Loki was balling his thin hands into tight fists, his eyes narrowing. "_Oh_," he whispered. He let out a chuckle again.

"Oh?"

"That's why Thor set us up," Loki laughed. "Because he thinks you can 'cure' me of my addiction."

The bigger man tensed. Oh, crap. "No," Steve said, softly. "That's not why."

The other man growled. He stood up and swept the food off of the table, making Steve cringe and move back in his seat. The remains of the sandwich fell on the floor, the plates crashing and banging against the ground. The entire restaurant fell silent excepting Loki's erratic breathing.

"Loki, whoa, calm down. That's not why—"

"Lies," Loki hissed. "You're lying to me!" His voice rose to a shout. "Stop lying!"

"I'm not lying to you," Steve bellowed. "I had no idea Thor set up this date, and the one before was a way to attempt to get us together. He thought we were compatible. But I sure as hell didn't expect you to be this much of a damn asshole."

Loki bared his teeth and ran his hand through his hair.

"Boys, do we need to take this outside?" A nervous waiter asked.

Loki scowled at Steve before taking a shaky, deep breath. "No, we're done." He stalked toward the door, his combat boots squelching through the food on the floor. Steve moved to get up and follow him out, but then Loki whirled around, pushing against his chest. "Don't you dare fucking follow me," he barked.

Steve stood stock still as Loki exited the restaurant, slamming out the door. He closed his gaping mouth, before he turned, staring at the mess on the ground. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Why did I say that," he muttered under his breath, before opening his eyes.

A few waiters moved to start cleaning the floor. Steve sighed again and then knelt down to pick up the shattered remains of the plate.

* * *

Around an hour and a half later, Steve was sitting in his car, staring at the roof. He didn't want to return home yet. Not yet. Not until he heard from Loki. The obviously very unstable man had stormed out in a rage. There was no knowing what he would do.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His arms were folded behind his neck, cushioning his head. At 3pm, he got a call from an unknown number.

"Hello, Steve Rogers," he said in a hurry. He listened intently to the call, his ears pricking up. There was panting on the other end of the phone and a pained grunt.

Steve drew his eyebrows together. "Hello? Who's this?"

"... Rogers," an accented voice rasped out. Loki.

"Loki? Loki, are you all right? What happened?"

"Slow down there," Loki chuckled in a strained voice. "I fell. It fucking hurt."

"You fell? Loki, what happened? Are you okay?"

Loki paused on the other end and he could hear rustling and a muffled yelp. "I... fell down the stairs at my place. So fucking stupid. I was rushing to an appointment with a client and I slipped." He hesitated. "I don't mean to frighten you, but I can't walk."

"Do you need me to come pick you up?"

"That would be appreciated," Loki said then reeled off his address. "Don't worry too much, I'm mostly fine. Just a couple of bruises, so there's no need to tell Thor about this either."

Steve wasn't too sure about that. "Okay, stay right where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

The line went dead.

* * *

Steve drove like a mad man, zipping through the city traffic. His heart was pounding up against his ribcage, his jaw tightened to the max. Finally, he made it to the corner of the street Loki had named. He jumped out of the car, slamming the door shut and locking it. He didn't even take a proper look at the neighborhood nor the building he entered.

His eyes scanned everywhere and finally he found the staircase. He saw a dark figure slumped against the brick wall right at the bottom of the stairs, sitting in a heap on the concrete ground. As soon as he heard a hissed cuss, he knew it was Loki. Steve hurried over to the figure and knelt next to him.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Loki's face was covered with his dark hair, but Steve could see the shape of his hands underneath his coat, and they were shaking uncontrollably. The young man was trembling all over, but whether it was from fright or pain he didn't know. He was covered up entirely by his black trench coat.

"Rogers," Loki said through clenched teeth after a few moments. "I thought... you wouldn't come."

"Of course I came," Steve said in a soothing voice. "Loki—_Loki_. Look at me."

Very slowly, the other man turned his head to the blond. Steve pursed his lips. He'd seen enough injuries in his life to know that this was bad, but not the worst he had seen. He was actually shaping up okay for having fallen down concrete stairs. He must have protected his head in the fall, thank God for that. Loki's right eye was swelling and blackening. Blood was leaking down from his swollen and split lip. He was grimacing. From the way he was hunched over, it was possible he had a few cracked ribs as well. Steve noticed that his hands were closed over something underneath the jacket.

"Is your leg injured?"

Loki gasped and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. He panted his breaths and his shaking became even stronger.

Steve sighed and put a hand on Loki's shoulder. "You're going to have to take off your coat. I need to have a look."

At this, Loki shook his head. "No. Please," he begged, quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"_Why?_"

"I don't—I don't want you to see me."

The pair was quiet after this statement, excepting for Loki's agonized gasping.

"Loki," Steve sighed. "I need to take a look. You might be severely injured. I'll even help you take your coat off."

The injured man was quiet for a while, before he nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered. Gently, he withdrew his hands from his jacket, and with stiff fingers, he pulled at the buckle around his slim waist. Steve helped him shimmy the coat off his shoulders, until he was just sitting on it. He tried not to express any emotion in his face when he saw what Loki was wearing underneath the large coat.

Loki wore silky black leggings that hugged his legs with a dark, tight, long-sleeved shirt. He had on large stiletto heels with silver pointed studs dotted all over them. Steve was shocked, in awe.

"You said you were going to work?"

Loki nodded, but didn't elaborate.

What kind of job did this boy have? He moved closer to Loki, who was itching to hold his right leg again. Loki threw his head back against the wall, panting.

Steve's hand hovered over the other man's knee. It was largely swollen, judging by the way that it strained the material. The joint was twisted in a repulsive way. Steve swallowed.

"I think your leg may be broken," he whispered. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Loki looked like he might have argued the point but he was simply too tired and pained to argue. "Okay," he simply said.

Steve lifted Loki's arms around his neck, and Loki hooked his fingers together as tight as he could. "This will hurt," he whispered into Loki's ear. "But I have to pick you up. Just bite down on my shirt, alright?" The larger man hesitated before sliding his own arms under Loki's legs. Loki's breath hitched, and then Steve felt teeth sink into the shoulder of his shirt. Then he stood up, cradling Loki in his arms. A muffled cry tore its way out of the man's throat and hot tears ran onto Steve's chest. He clawed at Steve's neck.

"I've got you. You're going to be okay." He pushed back out into the freezing cold, leaving the trench coat in the building's foyer. Steve quickly walked over to his car. "Can you open the door for me?" Steve's lips were brushing against Loki's hair and he restrained himself from pressing a kiss into it. Loki's hand flopped about uselessly, looking for purchase on the passenger door as he kept his face buried into Steve's collarbone. At last he opened the door and Steve carefully deposited him inside. He adjusted the seat so Loki wouldn't have to bend his broken knee. He shut the door and then jumped on the bonnet of the car, sliding across it before leaping into the driver's seat.

He looked over at Loki. "Where... where are your other clothes?"

Loki fastened his eyes shut tightly before replying quietly, "Got changed, needed to get into work clothes..." he gulped, "... I was fifteen minutes late. I ran down the stairs and slipped over in something. I fell down three flights of stairs." He paused. "My client is going to be fucking pissed off with me. Dammit."

Steve chewed on his lip before asking, "Client? What do you do for a living?"

Loki opened his eyes and stared at Steve for a few long moments. His eyes were empty. He gasped a breath and screwed his eyes shut again. He turned back to the front, his face contorted in pain. "Let's go, come on."

Within seconds, Steve merged into the traffic and they drove toward the hospital.

* * *

"Yeah, hi, my name's Steve and I have a... friend in the car with me who's broken his leg. We're in the car on the way to the hospital now... about five minutes away. Okay, sure, yeah. We'll meet you out the front. Bye." He shut his phone and tossed it to the backseat of the car.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip and snuck a glance at his passenger. Loki was looking pale and sweaty, his shivering persisting. His head was resting on the headrest heavily. He looked absolutely drained.

"How are you holding up there?" Steve asked, finally pulling into the hospital emergency area.

"Oh, just peachy," Loki said, weakly. His hands were back around his thigh, squeezing it tightly.

"They'll give you some painkillers once you see the doctor. Okay?"

Loki smile, his eyes glazed over from the pain. The baring of his teeth made the smile look all the more bloodthirsty. "Fantastic." Steve looked away.

He scanned the front of the hospital from inside the car. At last he spotted four nurses— three female, one male—waiting with a gurney near the front door of the A&E. Steve flashed his headlights, signaling them to come over. They starting running over instantly, hauling the gurney with them.

Steve turned to Loki. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

The other man smiled, softly, and then opened the passenger door by reaching across Loki's chest. Two of the nurses, the man and one of the women, poked their heads in.

"Which one of you is the fella with the broken leg?"

Loki's rolled his head toward the woman. "That would be me. The one not in the driver's seat," he added, feebly.

"Okay, honey, which one is it?" The female nurse asked, a concerned look on her face.

Loki licked his lips before replying weakly, "My right one." His voice was soft.

The man nodded. "Do you think you can get out of the car by yourself?"

"To be honest, I don't think I can move my knee at all without pain. Or even at all."

The man hummed then held out his arms. "Here, I'll help you on to the gurney."

Loki glanced back at Steve, nervously before he accepted the nurse's offer. Both the man and the woman swiftly removed Loki from the car and transferred him onto the gurney. Loki cried out at the abrupt movement. The nurses coaxed him to lie down, helping him get comfortable. Steve jumped out of the car and locked it.

The six of them made their way to the A&E. Loki had tears gathering, but they did not fall. They burst through the doors and then the nurses brought the gurney to a stop. Steve stood beside it, hesitantly. Loki looked up at him with wide, miserable eyes. The bigger man moved toward the gurney and gripped the rails.

"You're going to be okay, Loki," he murmured.

Loki nodded and tried for a small smile. The nurses were bustling around; one produced a bright orange leg immobilizer and moved toward the stretcher.

"Just relax, sweetie. I'm going to splint your leg, alright?" Before Loki could reply, she had straightened out his leg and slipped on the Frac-Immobiliser that stretched from his groin down to his foot. Loki yelped and reached out to grab the handrail, only to make contact with Steve's hand instead. While Steve blushed, Loki didn't seem to care and held on tightly to Steve's hand, hissing in agony.

"Be careful, you abhorrent shrew," Loki snarled.

She gave him a withering look before saying to him in a sickeningly sweet voice, "You have to fill out a form before you can go see the doctor." The nurse adjusted Loki's gurney so he could sit upright and then fluffed up his pillows.

"Just use my old one. I was here not too long ago, 'Loki Laufeyson'," Loki replied, his eyes sliding shut once again. He waved her off. "Be gone."

The nurse glared at him before stalking off. Steve stopped the remaining nurse—the man. "Excuse me." The nurse smiled at him. "Hi. Um, what's going to happen now? Do we get to see the doctor?"

"Well, first we'll be taking your friend in to the x-ray examination room where his leg and any other injured area will be x-rayed. That'll take around 15 minutes. As soon as that's finished, then he can see the doctor for diagnosis and treatment."

Steve nodded his thanks and the nurse walked away. "You hear that?"

"I may have a broken leg, but I'm not deaf," Loki growled.

Steve sighed and shook his head. "A simple thank you wouldn't be too bad."

"You've said that before."

This time, Steve didn't bother replying and instead sat down in the chair next to Loki's stretcher.

* * *

After what seemed like forever, Loki was taken into the X-Ray room where Steve couldn't follow. Steve promised to wait for him though, when Loki asked.

When Loki returned, he was still lying on the gurney, but he had changed into a hospital gown and the splint was gone. It had been two hours since they arrived at the hospital. Steve tried to force down a grin.

"Shut the fuck up," Loki snapped. "Don't you dare laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing."

Loki looked at him suspiciously. With the gown on, it highlighted how thin he was with his gangly limbs poking out from under it. He also looked a lot paler, his make-up fading. But without sleeves, the full extent of his track marks was exposed. Again, Steve tried not to look, but he saw how they were dotted all the way up each of his arms. Loki rubbed at them thoughtfully, as if they were itching.

"How are you feeling?"

Loki raised an eyebrow. "How do you think? I may have broken my leg."

"You didn't answer my question."

He paused and broke eye contact. "Better. Although, they had to cut off my pants." Loki pouted, frowning. "I liked those."

Steve drew his eyebrows together. "You sound... relaxed."

"Thank you."

Steve's lips quirked up to one side and he said, "They gave you painkillers, didn't they?"

Loki paused before smiling brightly. "Maybe, maybe not."

Steve was about to comment, but thought better. He frowned. Loki looked... different. A lot different. "Where are your piercings?"

Loki put a hand to his face and shifted uncomfortably. "They made me take them out before the x-ray," he said, quietly. He put a hand to a plastic bag sitting next to him, which seemed to be filled with the metal pieces that belonged in his eyebrow, lip and ears along with his phone and keys.

Steve surprised himself by saying, "You look good." He then gave Loki a crooked smile. And he did look good. He was younger, more innocent, less threatening. Underneath all the make-up, which had been wiped off, the metal and the tattoos, Loki was beautiful.

Loki blinked in shock. He stammered before murmuring, "Um, thanks?" He ran a hand over his face, tracing the leftover punctures in his skin.

"Loki Laufeyson?" A nurse called. A few other nurses grabbed hold of the stretcher and wheeled it toward the doctor's room. Steve followed dutifully.

When they made it inside the doctor's office, he was already setting up. He was a short man with thinning hair and a kind smile. "Hello there, Loki. I'm Dr. Coulson. How are you feeling?"

"Great," he said. "Splendid, fantastic. Actually no. Not really. My leg fucking hurts a lot, to be completely honest."

Coulson chuckled and 'Steve rolled his eyes. "That's fair enough, given the injuries you sustained in, what was it..." Coulson looked lost for a second before picking up Loki's rather thick medical file and flicking through it. "'Falling down the stairs at your apartment building'?"

Steve looked toward Loki who was nodding enthusiastically. "Yep, quite a spectacular fall. Down three flights, actually."

Coulson hummed and read through more of the file. He pulled out a couple of x-rays and put them up on the viewing board. Steve prepared for the mess that would be Loki's knee but was surprised to only see a small dark line in the middle of the kneecap.

"Is that it?" He asked, shocked.

The doctor looked at him and smiled. "You're his friend 'Steve'? Yes, well, Loki here has only suffered a minor fracture to his patella. And as you can see in the other slides, some cracked ribs. But the reason why it is so painful is because, as we had observed and concluded, that he's torn two tendons here... and here in his knee. That must have been some fall, Mr. Laufeyson."

Loki sniffed at the air and sneered. "Indeed it was. Now, what's happening now?"

"Well, thankfully, no surgery is needed at the present time. Although that may be on the table after the cast comes off."

Loki tensed on the gurney, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "C-cast? I have to get a fucking cast? Like plaster on my leg for a month?"

"Four at the minimum, really."

"Fuck me sideways," Loki gasped. He looked ready to faint. "Look, doctor, I'm not going to be wearing a cast on my leg for that long. I have a job that requires me being able to _function_."

"And you're going to have to work around it." Coulson gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, but this is just what happens when you break your knee."

"I didn't even break it, though," Loki murmured.

Coulson smiled again and then gestured to a few nurses waiting on the other side of the room. "Okay, we'll begin plastering it now. Once it's on, you'll wait for about twenty minutes in here then it will be dry. Then I want you to get a good night's sleep in the hospital overnight and in the morning you'll be doing a physical therapy session to teach you how to get around with crutches." Loki frowned and crossed his arms. Coulson took a white stocking from a nurse and started stretching it over Loki's foot. "So the cast that you're going to get is called a cylinder leg cast and it'll go from your ankle to your groin. This is a common cast for knee injuries like yours."

Loki scowled again. Steve wondered whether it was his default expression. The doctor then helped Loki turn side on, so his legs were sticking off the edge of the gurney and supported his bad leg. Coulson started rolling the stocking up Loki's calf before going over his knee, which was no longer massively swollen. Loki hissed and bit his lip as Coulson finished the stocking.

"Now I'm going to apply bandages, then we can start with the plaster-"

"You don't need to _explain_, doctor. I'm not incompetent," Loki said.

Coulson paused in his instruction, looking at Loki thoughtfully. He ended up just shaking his head, and continuing the job with no dialogue. He applied bandages from just above his ankle up to Loki's groin. Then he grabbed Loki's leg and bent the knee slightly so the leg was not completely straight. The injured man once again held on to Steve's hand, squeezing it extremely tightly. Steve winced from the unbelievable strength Loki seemed to possess.

Loki looked at the doctor distastefully as he started wrapping the wet, dripping plaster around his leg. He was still holding on to Steve's hand. One layer went on, then a second, then the stocking's foot was cut off and the padding was folded up at both ends, before finally a third layer. Coulson took a seat on the bed and began smoothing down the plaster. Loki gasped in agony when Coulson squeezed his knee.

"This is what I like to call, 'the love squeeze'. I have to squeeze the injured area to make the cast nice and snug." The doctor and nurses looked like they were enjoying Loki's pain all too much. Steve didn't blame them for wallowing in their revenge against the rude man.

As the doctor continued the 'love squeeze', Loki tightly held Steve's hand, gasping and growling in pain.

"Can you do it any softer?" Steve quietly asked the doctor. "He's about to snap my hand in half."

But Coulson just laughed, shaking his head slightly and continued to mold.

* * *

At 11pm that night (Steve should have been in bed and asleep by then), Loki and Steve were sitting in the hospital ward, Loki in his hospital bed and Steve on a plastic white chair next to him. Out of pure boredom and non-sleepiness, they had acquired a sheet of paper and were playing tic-tac-toe together. Loki had won every round.

There were quite a few other patients in there, and Loki had glared at them all if they had even so much as glanced in their direction. It looked twice as scary once Loki had put all of his piercings back in. The pair was calmly playing the little game together as they had been for many hours.

Loki groaned and threw down his pencil, after defeating Steve once again. "I'm bored," he whined. "I want to go home."

"Well, you can't just yet," Steve said as he drew out another grid. "Doctor Coulson said that you're staying overnight. We can go home in the morning."

Loki grunted. "Well, I can understand why _you're_ fine with it. You can go whenever you want. It's your decision to stay. I'm stuck here."

"That's true," Steve muttered, finishing the grid. "If you're bored then what do you feel like doing?"

The other man drew his eyebrows together, thinking. "I want to go for a walk."

Steve sighed and massaged his temples. "Loki, no. Remember last time you tried to get up?"

"I can't say I can recall, no."

"You feel down on the floor, hard. You're lucky you didn't knock your teeth out."

"That's hardly _my _fault. If the nurses had just helped me up when I asked, then I wouldn't have fallen," Loki snapped. He then sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I miss my clothes." He tugged on the papery hospital gown. His sea-green eyes then locked on the cast encasing his leg. The nurses had very kindly helped Loki put some pillows under his leg to elevate it before he'd barked at them to "piss off". He ran a hand over the cast, sighing. He hesitated over his knee.

"This fucking sucks," he muttered. Steve looked up to him. "I always thought that if I ever got seriously injured, it would be because of a skiing accident or bungee jumping gone wrong. Something noteworthy. Not 'falling down the stairs because I was late for a fucking'."

Steve's ears pricked up and his pencil's lead broke when he pressed too hard on the paper. Had he misheard? "What-?"

"_Loki_," he heard a man shout.

Both of the men looked toward the entrance to the ward. A short man in his early-thirties was walking straight toward them. He had brown hair and a goatee, and wearing a purple suit with sneakers. The guy looked _rich_. He was holding a bunch of roses and a backpack was in his opposite hand.

"Oh, _fucking hell_," Loki hissed, adjusting himself in his bed. He combed his hair with his fingers and brushed his hand over his hospital gown.

"Who's that?" Steve asked, nervously.

"My ex-boyfriend," Loki whispered.

Steve's mouth formed an 'O' as the man made his way over. Shit, his ex must have been about ten years older than Loki. "Baby, what happened to you?" The man exclaimed, waving the red roses. "Your leg, holy shit. What happened?"

"Tony, Tony, relax," Loki said. Steve looked at him. Where had this Loki come from? It was the calmest he'd seen the man. "Don't you think you're being a bit rude? You haven't even acknowledged my friend yet. Steve, this is Tony Stark, my..." he trailed off, looking embarrassed. "Tony, this is Steve Rogers, my friend." Steve pretended not to notice how his heart seized up when Loki uttered the word 'friend'.

Tony and Steve shook hands and Steve could tell that Tony was sizing him up. "Hi, how're you doing?" Tony said, nonchalantly. Before Steve could reply he had turned back to Loki. "Loki, what happened? The hospital called me and told me you'd been in an accident. Jesus Christ, Lokes, I thought something horrible had happened!" He sat down heavily on the bed and took a deep breath. Loki watched him carefully and traced a finger over his stomach.

Tony turned to Loki on the bed. "I got here as fast as I could, I didn't even listen to her explanation. I just knew that I had to get here pronto." Tony moved his hand closer to Loki's, but shied away. The other man looked disappointed. "Here, I brought you some clothes. I know how much you hate the gowns." He smiled crookedly and handed Loki the backpack.

Loki gave him a shy smile. He pulled out the track pants, runners and Black Sabbath t-shirt. His eyes were wide and full of adoration for Tony. "I—" Loki paused. He was at a loss for words. "Thank you for the clothes. And for coming."

"How could I not? I was shit scared, Loki. The last time you were here..." Tony gulped and shook his head. His eyes flickered over to Steve. "Never mind. What happened?"

He shrugged and avoided eye contact with him. His black hair fell over his face. "I fell down the stairs in my apartment, that's all."

"That's all? You're never that clumsy," Tony said in an accusing tone.

"I did! I caught my toe on a splintered plank. You know how dodgy my new place is, I'm sure mother would have told you," Loki spat.

"Just tell me what happened. Why is it so hard for you to tell the truth?"

"I said that I fucking fell—"

"That's a lie and you know—"

"You've _never_ believed me—"

"That's bullshit—"

"_Fine, _I fell down the stairs because I was rushing to get to a client, is that what you want to hear?" Loki growled through clenched teeth.

Tony sat there, obviously stunned. "Client—client? Wait," he held up a finger and paused to gather his thoughts. "Client? Dammit, Loki. I thought... I told you to stop doing that! We agreed on no more of that prostitution shit, remember?"

"Yes but then you fucking _left me, didn't you, Tony?"_

The weight of these words was heavy on the room. Steve looked to Tony whom looked like he'd been punched in the gut. He was opening and closing his mouth. Loki was looking absolutely livid; his whole body was tense, which would probably have had him in a lot of pain.

Finally, Tony stood up quickly from the bed, almost making Loki's leg fall off of its perch on the pillows. Loki suppressed a wince. The shorter man threw the roses down onto the floor.

"How could you do this to me?" Tony shouted. Steve was suddenly very aware of the fact that everyone in the ward was looking at them.

"How could _I_ do this to _you_? If you're forgetting, _Anthony_, you are no longer my boyfriend and you have no authority over me!" Loki yelled back. He was getting very twitchy and shifted in his spot. Steve was confused until he realized that Loki was in a very vulnerable position. He was unable to escape the situation in his condition. Steve unconsciously straightened and shuffled a little closer to the hospital bed.

"Well, I was actually here to discuss that." Tony sighed and chuckled darkly. "You know, I dropped everything when I got the call. I skipped out on work and came rushing over for you. And you know what? There isn't anyone else I would do that for. Just you. Because I still—" Tony stopped himself and pursed his lips. He stared at Loki for a long while and Loki stared back. He sniffled and turned his eyes to the roof. He gave a wobbly sigh. "Fuck this. I'm going." Tony turned on his heel, mashing the flowers under the sole of his shoe and started storming out of the ward.

Loki scowled after him. "Yeah, just bloody walk away. Giving up is the only thing you're good at, isn't that right, Stark?" He screamed. Tony banged his way out the doors and disappeared.

Loki growled and turned back. In frustration, he brought his fist down onto his broken knee hard and then cried out.

"_Motherfucking fucker of fuck_," he shouts, collapsing back on the bed and whimpering.

"Excuse me, do you mind the language? There are children in here," a middle-aged woman scolded from the side of a hospital bed holding a boy with a broken arm. The boy's mouth was open in shock.

"Yeah? Well why don't you—"

Steve clamped a hand over Loki's mouth. "Of course, we're very sorry."

The woman smiled at Steve fondly and then glared at Loki.

Steve removed his hand from Loki's mouth, blushing slightly. Loki was still gasping with the aftershocks of the pain. He stroked a hand up and down Loki's cast in an effort to comfort him and squeezed his shoulder.

"Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to punch your broken leg."

"Shut up, Rogers," Loki said through clenched teeth.

Loki needed a few more moment to be able to breathe evenly again. Then his clenched fists loosened. He murmured, "That hurt like a bitch."

"I could tell. Does it still hurt?"

"It throbs, but there's no need for a doctor."

Steve removed his hand from Loki's leg and placed it in his lap, nodding. When no one had said anything for a long while, Steve said quietly, "You're a prostitute?"

Loki couldn't look Steve in the eye. He turned his head toward him, his gaze upon his lap and his lips pursed. He nodded minutely. "Yes," he breathed. Steve sighed then he stood up from the bed. Loki was looking at him with an expressionless face.

"What?" Steve asked.

"So that's it? You find out what I do for a living and you just leave?" Loki snarled. The unspoken question of 'You're giving up on me already?' hung between them.

"No," Steve said. "I'm just going to get some water. Do you want some?"

Loki looked at him in confusion. "Um... yeah, I guess."

Steve turned to walk away but then a cold, thin hand on his arm stopped him. He turned back to Loki. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Loki bit his lip, before whispering, "You're not... leaving me?"

Steve's eyes softened. "Look, prostitution may be illegal and it conflicts with my beliefs like you wouldn't believe but... I wouldn't leave you alone."

The other man's face was stony, but his eyes turned soft. He nodded and let go of Steve's arm, the cold of his fingers retreating quickly. Steve smiled fondly at him then left to go get two cups of water.

He returned to a nurse handing Loki the wrecked remains of what used to be a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He carefully cradled it in his hands as she walked away. Steve watched on around the curtain of Loki's area without him knowing. Loki stroked his hands over the torn petals, his eyes shining with tears. He swallowed heavily then leant back onto the bed, clutching the roses tightly to his chest. He swallowed again and covered his eyes with his forearm. He started to tremble.

Steve cleared his throat and Loki lifted his arms off of his face quickly, clearing his throat. "Did you get the water?" He asked in a low and hoarse voice. He dabbed at suspicious wet patches on his cheeks.

The bigger man gave him a watery smile. "Yep. Here you go." He handed him the cup.

Loki didn't let go of the flowers.

* * *

The two fell asleep fairly easily that night.

Steve pretended not to notice Loki's quiet sobs.

He was still holding the roses.

* * *

**Notes:** Please review! If no one's interested in this I might not continue writing it :/ 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:**

Sorry for the wait, guys! But here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

After a grueling one-hour session learning how to use crutches and seven "falling-on-the-asses" later, Loki was allowed to go home. Steve offered to drive him and Loki had no choice but to say yes considering he didn't have a car. Steve waited for him to get changed into the clothes Tony gave him and then, as per hospital policy, took him down to the car in a wheelchair. Loki griped and growled the whole way.

In the car, Loki directed him back to his home from the back seat. He couldn't fit in the front seat with his leg plastered, so Steve had to help him into the back, his leg lying horizontally over the seats. Loki had to put his back up against the right door. Needless to say, he was not pleased.

They drove down a side street, lined with broken down and poor houses. Steve hadn't really concentrated on what the neighborhood, or even the building was like when he'd fetched Loki. It looked like a bad area. Steve wondered why Loki didn't just live with his parents. He was still only young. Thor had told him that his 24th birthday was a couple of months away. But then the memory of the dinner loomed up, and he understood quite clearly why Loki would not enjoy living with his father.

Steve parked the car in an available space outside the apartment block that was apparently home to Loki. He peered up at the dilapidated building, taking in the barred windows and graffitied brick walls. Was it this horrible when he'd been there yesterday? A mangy cat yowled and sped along the sidewalk after presumably a rat. He chewed on his bottom lip and turned to Loki, who was glaring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Steve mumbled. He keyed off the engine. "Do you need help getting out?"

"No, I don't," Loki snapped. He unbuckled himself and tried reaching for the door. He reached desperately for it but couldn't reach it. He huffed and glared at Steve. Steve smiled and got out of the car, opening the door for him. Loki took his wooden crutches, which had been on the floor for the trip, and shimmied his body off the seats and out of the car. He touched his feet to the sidewalk then used the crutches to get upright. He slammed the door shut behind him. Steve locked the car and dropped the keys into his pocket. He hesitated by his vehicle.

Loki started crutching to the apartment block, still slightly uneven and wobbly despite his "crutch training". He reached the door and pulled his keys out from his pocket, unlocking it. Before venturing inside, he pivoted around to Steve.

"Well? Are you coming or not?"

Steve raised his eyebrows and then jogged over to the other man, holding the door open for him. Loki pointed his nose slightly higher into the air as if it were expected that Steve would hold the door open for him. Steve ground his teeth in annoyance as Loki swung himself inside.

The door clunked shut and the pair of men stared up at the long, steep, concrete flight of stairs. Loki sighed deeply. "Why are things always so complicated?" He wondered aloud.

"I can carry you up if you want," Steve offered. Loki fixed him with a challenging look.

"I decline," he said. "Oh, I decline a million times over."

"Jeez, it was only a suggestion," Steve mumbled, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Isn't there an elevator? I have one in my building."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Have you seen this building? Of course there's no damn elevator." Loki rolled his eyes and then crutched forward slowly. He placed both ends of the crutches on the bottom stair and then lifted himself up onto it. He wobbled for a moment, before regaining his balance. Then he moved up another step, and another before finally and inevitably, his balance was disturbed and he started falling back.

A strangled yelp forced itself out of Loki's throat and his arms flailed. In a split second, Steve had moved forward and caught Loki, pulling him against him chest. The crutches clattered to the ground with a cringe worthy _bang_.

For a few moments, the pair awkwardly stood in each other's arms before Loki pulled away, opting to rest against the stairwell rail. He stuck his broken leg out further, so he wouldn't have to lean his weight on the painful extremity.

"Do not touch me again," he said while narrowing his deep green eyes. "Or I will end you."

Steve threw up his arms in defeat and gathered the fallen crutches in his arms, offering them to Loki. Loki eyes flicked from his leg to the crutches several times over before he gave a sigh of defeat. Very slowly, he started lowering himself down on the stairs until he was sitting on them. Then he began to shuffle his way up his each step, moving his backside up one as his good leg pushed him up.

Steve shook his head and chuckled. "And you thought that me carrying you was embarrassing. Oh no, this is much better."

The look that Loki gave him was cold and harsh, almost making Steve regret saying anything at all. Steve slung the crutches on his shoulder. Loki butt-shuffled up a couple more stairs before Steve rolled his eyes and swept Loki into his arms, depositing him over his other shoulder in a fireman's carry. It was lucky Steve was so built; otherwise he wouldn't have been able to handle carrying both the crutches and Loki.

Loki gave an indignant squawk and clung to Steve's waist. "What the hell are you doing, Rogers? Put me down immediately!"

"Not a chance."

Almost 10 minutes later, Steve had carried Loki, flailing and shouting, up 6 flights of stairs and onto the third floor. Steve carefully placed him down, Loki wiggling frantically. Loki then snatched his crutches and settled himself over them again. Loki dusted off his behind (Steve tried not to let his gaze wonder) and then crutched to apartment 6B before unlocking it.

Steve went to follow, but Loki stuck both his plastered leg and a crutch over the doorway.

"And what do you think you're doing?" He said. "You're not coming in. You're going home."

"Oh, okay," Steve said, confused. "Well, I'll come by sometime this week. See—"

Loki moved back from the hall, awkwardly and slammed the musty door in Steve's face.

"—you," he finished, looking dismayed. Steve shook his head once again.

Loki Laufeyson was a piece of work.

* * *

A few days later Steve mustered up the courage to go see Loki. He ran up the steps and arrived at Loki's apartment. He could hear the sounds of a television beyond it. He was about to knock on the door when he saw a pink piece of paper stuck to the front.

It was an eviction notice.

Steve took it down and folded it into his pocket. He was about to knock again when he realized that the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. He frowned and pushed it open.

"Loki?" He called. "Loki, your front door was open. It's me, Steve."

The apartment was very small, even smaller than Steve's. The kitchen and lounge room were all in one space, with only two doors to the left and no hallways. It was mostly very clean, with books strewn over the couch and a t-shirt lying on a chair. There were three pairs of stiletto heels nestled next to the bookcase that was overflowing with even more novels. The walls were bare and peeling.

The sounds of the television were coming from the door closest to him. Steve walked over toward the sound and cracked open the door.

"Is everyone decent?" He chuckled before opening the door the rest of the way. His smile fell as he ducked out of the way of a rogue tissue box.

"_Get out of my room!_" Loki screamed, throwing a balled up pair of socks at him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Steve said, putting up his hands and dodging the socks. "What's the matter?"

Loki was sitting propped up with some massive pillows on his bed, looking positively distraught. His eyes were puffy and red. Tear streaks marked his cheeks. His black hair was a mess upon his head. Loki's face was scrubbed clean of make-up, making him look a lot younger. His leg was elevated on some pillows, the foot covered with a dark blue sock. His crutches lay against the wall next to him. Tissues surrounded him like a sea. The television blared loudly as Loki choked back a sob. He kneaded his palm into his eye, in an effort to dry his tears.

"Loki," Steve said, drawing his eyebrows together. "What's the-?"

"'Matter'? It's my fucked up leg," Loki said, snarling. He bit his lip when his breath stuttered with a sob. "With this fucking thing, I can't work for at least 8 months, _at the very least_, Rogers. That's what they said, right? And I'll have this massive, horrible cast for four months. So without my income how the bloody hell am I meant to pay rent, huh?"

Steve pursed his lips. He knew better than to get involved in his rant.

"Exactly — I can't! And don't you dare mention Thor. I won't have his help! He'll tell fath—Odin on me and tell him what happened and then I'll never get the respect I deserve from him," Loki said. He clenched his fists. "And my knee is fucking throbbing and screaming at me all the bloody goddamn time and I have an itch on my thigh that I can't scratch and my painkillers are in the lounge-room but my leg hurts too fucking much to go get them." He angrily wiped his tears away and held back a sob behind the palm of his hand.

Steve didn't expect the outburst at all. Loki was usually so secretive, so protective of his emotions. It was almost scary to see him like this.

He reached over next to him and flicked the television off and then walked out of the room, spying the prescribed bottle of pills on the scrappy counter of the "kitchen" that only consisted of a sink and some cupboards. He rooted through the cupboards for a glass before grabbing one out of the three there and filled it with water from the tap. He walked back into the room and pushed the glass of water and two pills into Loki's hands.

"Take them," he ordered.

Loki's eyes widened and he sniffled.

"I said," Steve said, lowly, "take them."

Loki did so, swallowing the pills and washing them down with water, keeping his eyes trained on the larger man. Steve took the glass from Loki and then sat on the bed.

"Move in with me," Steve blurted out, surprising himself.

Loki looked shocked. "Wh-what?"

"Just for a while," Steve quickly supplied. "Just until you get back on both your feet and you have a steady income."

Loki closed his gaping mouth. "No," he spat. "I will not take pity from you, Rogers, nor your charity. I'll figure something out."

With that Steve pulled out the crumpled pink paper.

Loki snatched it, sneering and then read it. He looked back up to Steve with wide eyes and a pale face.

"Is this...?" He brandished the paper.

"It was on your door when I came in," Steve said. "If you don't move out on your own, they'll force you out."

Loki looked both conflicted and sulky. He pouted and crossed him arms.

"Shit, okay," he agreed. Steve beamed happily and patted Loki's bad leg softly. "It's not like I have a choice anyway." Steve grinned all the wider.

* * *

Steve huffed and puffed as he hauled heavy cardboard boxes around the apartment. He swiped a hand across his forehead, collecting sweat on the back of it. He took a deep breath before crouching down and standing up with a box in his arms. Steve glanced over at Loki whom was reclining on the couch, his leg resting on the footstool (that was really just an empty crate) in front of him. His crutches were standing next to him.

"Hey, if you're done relaxing, you have five more boxes to move," Loki snapped. He scowled at Steve. "That one goes in the car and that one gets thrown out. Now, hurry up. Chop, chop."

Steve blew a sweaty tendril of blonde hair away from his face and continued putting away the boxes. Almost half an hour later, Steve jogged up the stairs to find Loki half asleep on the couch, his head lolled back against the top of it. The painkillers were obviously making him drowsy.

"Loki," he puffed. Loki startled awake, blinking sluggishly and smacking his lips together. "They're all loaded up, time to go."

The younger man rubbed his eyes and stretched very carefully so not to make his cracked ribs twinge. He gathered up his crutches and got up awkwardly, crutching to the door. He paused in his step, pulling up his gym shorts higher up his hips. Steve looked away, blushing.

Loki brushed past him in the doorway and crutched toward the stairs. Steve looked into the bare and empty apartment.

"Wouldn't you like to say... I don't know... goodbye?" Steve asked.

Loki turned to him, pierced eyebrow raised. He huffed and then swung back to the apartment. He glanced inside and said, "This was such a fucking dump and I'm glad I'm leaving. Piece of shit." He slammed the door, locking it and hung his key on the handle before crutching back toward the stairs.

Steve looked on wide-eyed but then ran to catch up to Loki. "Hey, you need some help? I'm here if—"

The other man shot daggers at him, his nostrils flaring. He snorted softly then gathered his crutches under his right arm, leaning up against the wall for support. He then used the two crutches as one and the handrail to hop slowly down the stairs. Steve followed close behind, hoping that Loki wouldn't fall and break his other knee.

At last, they made it downstairs and out the door. Loki immediately went up to Steve's car and shuffled into the back seat, for the door was unlocked. He settled himself in, scowling at all of the boxes that contained his things swamping him and then scowled at Steve to hurry up and get in.

Steve jogged up to the car and slipped inside, keying the engine.

* * *

It turned out that Steve did not live that far at all away from Loki's apartment to Loki's voiced surprise. It made sense with the two sharing a supermarket and all, but Loki was still surprised that he didn't live closer to Thor, due to how close friends Steve was with him. It seemed the painkillers also made him talkative as well.

The pair got out of the car, Loki staggered a bit but Steve caught his elbow to prevent his fall, and made their way inside the apartment building and out of the blistering cold weather. Steve nodded to the old woman who was just walking into her apartment.

"Hello, Mrs Wilson. How are you today?"

Mrs Wilson gave him a kind smile and her eyes flickered back and forth between the two men. "Fine, thank you, dear. Who's your friend?" She tried giving Loki a smile but he avoided her gaze.

"This here is Loki Laufeyson, Thor's little brother. He's staying with me until he's all healed up and on two feet again."

"That's fair enough," she said. "What happened, sweetie? Not that it's any of my business, I'm sure."

Steve winced, genuinely fearful of Loki's reply but to his shock, he heard the black-haired man say, "I broke my knee falling down the stairs. Dreadful, really." He looked up in surprise to see Loki looking... friendly?

"Poor dear," Mrs Wilson said, her eyes widening. "If you ever get lonely up there while Steve is at work, you're more than welcome to come have a cup of tea with me."

"That would be most wonderful, Mrs Wilson."

"Please, call me Laura."

"Very well, Laura. I'd best be going; I have yet to officially move in. Good day." Loki smiled at her before carrying himself to the elevator.

Steve nodded his head to her and stammered a goodbye before getting into the lift with Loki. He jammed down the 15th floor number and stared at Loki.

"What?" the man snapped. "I'm not a complete brute, I have enough sense to get along with my new neighbours."

Steve blinked at him and then the elevator doors opened with a ping. The couple ventured out and Steve led the way down the hall toward apartment 15C. Loki was looking around wide-eyed at the obvious improvement of living compared to his old place. Steve shot Loki a crooked grin before unlocking the door to his home and opening it for him.

Carefully, Loki ventured inside. Steve noticed him looking around, investigating every nook and cranny with his eyes. It was in no way an expensive, large apartment like Thor and Jane's was. But it was a lot bigger than Loki's old cramped space he used to live in. The apartment was spacious, with a sofa bed and one armchair that were both made for comfort rather than style. It was warm and humble, just the way Steve liked it.

"There's only one bedroom," Steve announced. "So you can take the bed. I'll sleep on the futon. I don't want you to be uncomfortable while you're staying here, the doctor said to rest yourself as much as possible."

Loki nodded and hopped further into the apartment, looking over the walls that were covered with little sketches and drawings. "You draw?" He ran his hands over a few drawings of the local park.

Steve blushed a dark red. "Yeah, it's just a hobby, really."

"You're... talented."

Steve blinked in surprise. "Um... thanks?" He straightened and then ran past Loki. "Okay, yeah, so I should show you around. The kitchen is there," he pointed to a doorway with no door just in front of them. "So if you get hungry, you can just grab some food there. And drinks are there too, no alcohol," he added. "I don't drink all that much, only ever with Thor."

"Tony loves to drink," Loki said, smiling. "I often had to throw out his alcohol so he wouldn't drink too much. He was more open when he was drunk, though. Sober didn't suit us." He looked sad, casting his eyes down.

Steve stood there awkwardly before he launched back into his speech. "And the bathroom is here." He leapt over to a door to his right, opening it. "The toilet is there too and I have a bath that you can use so you don't get your cast wet. And the bedroom is..." he ran over to the bedroom and opened its door. "... Here. The laundry is downstairs on the ground floor, and the trash chute is just down the hall out the front of the apartment."

Loki stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face. "You don't have people over often, do you, Rogers?"

Steve blushed once again. "Um... no not really. Not since my boyfriend left, anyway."

"Boyfriend?" Loki raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have pinned you as gay."

"Well, yeah, I don't know. I don't like to label it." Steve gave a small smile.

Loki stared at him.

"Right," Steve clapped his hands. "I'll start bringing the boxes up here. You can just sit on the couch or the armchair or whatever you like. Um, I'll just be, err, going now."

Loki nodded and crutched over to the couch, snatching a pillow and lifting his leg up onto the footstool, placing the pillow under his heel. He grunted with the effort. Steve ran out the door and began the many trips up the stairs.

By the time he finished, the sun was setting and his shirt was dripping with sweat, but everything was nicely put away and the apartment was reordered so Loki could navigate around on crutches with ease. He dusted his hands off then placed them on his hips.

"All done. So what do you want to do for dinner?" He called, turning toward the couch. Steve tried desperately to suppress a grin. Loki was curled up on the cushions, his broken leg stretched out along the couch while his good leg was flopping off the edge. His mouth was open a fraction and he was snoring quietly. His arms were hanging over his head. Steve walked over, crouching next to Loki. He placed a hand on his forearm and swiped his thumb across the pale skin. "Loki," he whispered, shaking his arm. "Time to wake up."

Loki snorted and breathed deeply before bringing his arms forward, wrapping them around Steve's hand. He brought it to his chin, nuzzling into him. He sighed, smiling slightly in his sleep. Steve shook his head, beaming. "Loki," he said, louder. "You've got to get into bed. Come on, I'll help you."

"No," he mumbled. "Don' wan' move."

"Come on," Steve chuckled. He patted Loki's shoulder.

Loki nodded with his eyes still glued shut. "'kay." He started sliding off the couch and Steve helped him lift his plastered leg. Steve quickly decided that Loki was not lucid enough to crutch himself to the bedroom, so he slid his hands under his legs and cradled him against his chest.

He hoisted him up and stumbled toward the bedroom. He nudged open the door with his shoulder and walked inside, heading for the king sized bed. Steve gently placed Loki down on the bed, folding the covers over the top of him and tucking him in. He stroked the hair back from Loki's forehead.

"Good night, Loki," he whispered.

"Night, Steve," he murmured.

Steve's heart squeezed tightly. _He called me Steve_. He smiled widely then switched off the light. The room fell into darkness and Loki's soft sleepy sighs carried through the apartment.

* * *

Despite Loki's apparent kindness on that day, the week living with him was hell for Steve. The man found himself constantly rushing around to fulfill Loki's every beck and call. Even agreeing to ridiculous acts such as opening his water bottle for him because the drugs "made him too sleepy" or picking out all of the peas in his soup. Steve just couldn't say no, and to be completely honest, that angered him.

Steve made a deal with himself after going out in the freezing rain to pick up a jar of pickles for Loki (which he didn't end up wanting) that he would not take anymore of his crap.

It was Friday morning and Steve was already out of bed. He was pacing around the apartment, working out his backpack and lunch for his day at the youth center down the road. Loki was sleeping on the couch, a blanket pulled over him that Steve had graciously put there after he had fallen asleep reading.

Steve wandered over with a glass of water and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. He looked down at Loki, his brow furrowed. When sleeping the man looked peaceful, less troubled. And even more beautiful. His brow furrowed down even further.

"Loki," he whispered. He nudged him. "Wake up, breakfast is ready."

He murmured something in his sleep and snored before turning over. Steve pursed his lips and then, without fully thinking through the consequences, poured the ice cold water all over Loki's front, although carefully so as to not to get his cast wet.

Loki woke with a yelp and a splutter, coughing up the water that had gotten into his mouth. He maneuvered into a sitting position, growling, "What the actual _fuck,_ Rogers?"

Steve smiled sweetly at him. "Time to wake up, sunshine. And you should probably take a bath as well. You're starting to reek." Loki looked at him, open mouthed and his eyes narrowed. Steve shoveled a spoonful of eggs into his mouth and said, "And there's breakfast in the kitchen. Just dish it up yourself. I'm off to work now. Bye!"

He almost skipped away.

* * *

To be sincerely honest, Steve was afraid of returning home that night, scared of what Loki might have planned as revenge. He'd heard enough stories about Loki's pranks from Thor, including an incident where Thor's hair had been dyed bright green on school photos day.

He trudged up the hallway to his apartment, fumbling with putting his keys in the lock.

"Loki!" Steve called. "I'm home and I've got dinner!" He looked around warily. "Loki?"

"I'm in the bath!" The younger man shouted from the bathroom. "Don't you dare come in here."

Steve grinned and shook his head. "Alright, but hurry up. Dinner's gonna get cold."

He walked over to the kitchen and set down his bags. Steve looked around quickly before stowing a package in his broom cupboard. He tucked the large paper McDonald's bag around his arm and balanced the drinks in his hands. He went back into the lounge room, flicking the television on and pulling out his food.

The bathroom door swung open. Moist steam flooded the apartment. Loki crutched out looking fresh in a new pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. All of his piercings were in and his make-up was applied. He shut the door behind him and combed his still-wet hair back from his face. His eyes settled on dinner.

"What is... that?" He sneered, looking repulsed. He pointed a finger to the paper bag.

Steve looked at his burger and fries. "Um... it's dinner. I didn't have enough time to organize a meal; there were a couple things I needed to tend to at the youth centre. Sorry I'm home so late."

Loki screwed up his face. "Ugh, disgusting." He hopped over to the couch. "Move," he commanded. Steve just stared at him until he gave up with a huff and sat next to him, balancing his stiff leg up on the footstool and laying his crutches on the floor. "If you'd called ahead, I could have made something myself."

Steve snorted, almost choking on a fry. "You? You're too lazy to even get off the couch, let alone cook something."

"You think that is laziness? I am a lot of things, but I am not 'lazy', Rogers," he snapped. "How would you be if you'd nearly snapped your leg in half?"

"You're exaggerating," Steve muttered. He pushed the McDonald's bag over to him. "Eat. You're still looking like a fountain pen."

Loki rolled his eyes. "After this meal, I definitely won't be." He pulled out the contents; a large fries, a salad and a Big Mac. He hummed. "Acceptable." Loki started to ravish the food, almost inhaling it. He noticed Steve staring at him. "What? I grew up with Thor. If you didn't eat fast, you didn't eat!"

Steve laughed. "That's fair enough. I've eaten with him enough times to know that."

"Have you seen him eat Italian?"

"Oh, God, yes! It gets all stuck in his—"

"—beard and hangs off his hair, it's—"

"—disgusting!"

"Revolting more like!"

The two men grinned at each other for a long moment, before hurriedly looking away to the TV screen.

"So... how was your day?" Steve asked, experimentally. For the past week living with him, Loki had been routinely avoid Steve's attempts at conversation. Apparently something had changed, because Loki didn't avoid it this time.

"It was okay. I got a few calls from clients that I had to turn down. That was torture, knowing that it was money down the drain." Loki made a face.

"Hey," Steve said. "It's only for a few months."

"Yeah, a few _months_," Loki scoffed.

He put down his salad and started to reach for his burger. Steve quirked an eyebrow. He nudged the Big Mac back over in his direction with his knee, but kept his eyes trained on the TV. Loki huffed in annoyance and tried reaching for it again. Steve moved it just a few inches out of his reach.

Loki growled. Steve pretended not to hear him. Loki ground his teeth together and made another attempt to get to his burger, only to find it at the opposite side of the table. The youth worker smiled at him. Loki shot him a dirty look and tried reaching for the food again. With his leg resting on the footstool, he couldn't stretch enough to get it. He fell back in his seat, defeated.

"Why must you torture me so?" He muttered. "I'm _hungry_, Steve."

"I know you are," Steve said with a smirk. "I just want to teach you that the only way you're going to get something is to ask nicely."

Loki blew a strand of hair out of his face. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Stevie," he purred, fluttering his eyelashes. "May you pretty please pass my food? I would very much appreciate it."

Steve smiled. "Of course. You only needed to ask." He winked.

The crippled man glared at him and dug into his burger. Steve swallowed as he saw Loki devour the food, licking his fingers afterward, almost seductively. He squirmed in his seat, biting his lip. Loki looked over with an unreadable expression.

The couple continued to watch whatever reality crap was on the television. And Steve continued to watch Loki out of the corner of his eye.

_He really is beautiful_.

"Stop looking at me, Rogers," Loki snapped, his eyes still locked on the TV.

"Oh, sorry," he stuttered.

* * *

The next morning, Steve was getting ready for work. His back was sore from his night on the futon. That thing was hell. He brushed his hair back with gel and checked the state of his bright, white teeth. A memory ran through his mind of a certain someone curling his arms around his waist and burying his face in between his shoulders.

_"Good morning, handsome..."_

_Steve turned around and hooked his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders. He kissed him deeply for a long moment._

_"Morning, soldier."_

_"Oh, please_."

He shook his head to clear his mind of... _him_. He didn't need any reminiscence of _him_. Not before he was going to work. Steve needed to be emotionally available for his job, and memories like that wouldn't help him.

He sighed and looked around for his watch. It was impossible to find anything now. Loki had officially taken over his bathroom. The cupboard behind the mirror was full of jewelry, hair products and make-up. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Finally, he found it curled up next to Loki's hair straightener.

Steve walked out of the dingy bathroom, buckling his watch to his wrist. "Loki?" He shouted. "I need you for a moment."

"I'm right here."

Steve jumped back in fright. Instead of being in his bedroom, Loki was lying on the couch with multiple pillows behind his back and under his broken leg, eating some cheerios. He was still in his pajamas—silky green boxers and a band shirt that hung off one shoulder, exposing a pale, angular collarbone.

"Jeez, you scared me!"

"1 point to Loki." He flashed Steve a mocking grin that made his heart flutter. "You called?"

"I was just wondering... do your armpits still hurt?"

"Fuck yes," Loki said. He shoveled down some more cereal. "I feel like the skin has been rubbed raw. It's torture, I swear. As soon as I'm off the crutches, I'm feeding them into a wood chipper."

Steve nodded. "Well, then. I have a little gift for you." He held up a finger, indicating Loki to wait. Loki quirked a pierced eyebrow. He went into the kitchen and opened his broom cupboard. He picked up a large green package with a golden bow on it. He returned to the lounge room, holding up the present. Loki looked thoroughly surprised.

"What's that?"

"I told you. A gift."

"But why? I'm a complete bastard to you."

Steve laughed aloud. "I'm not going to disagree there. But I do want to make you as comfortable as possible. Plus, I kind of wanted to offer a peace offering." He walked over to Loki and put the heavy bundle in his lap. It was long but thin. "Go on," he said excitedly. "Open it!"

Loki gave him a suspicious look before he tore off the shiny green paper. His eyes widened. "... you got these for me?"

"Yeah, that's actually why I was home so late last night. I went hunting all over the city for them." Steve watched Loki carefully, hoping to get a reaction out of him. "So? What do you think? We can give the hospital back those crappy wood ones. And these are rented for the next six months, by the way."

The taller man almost smiled. He pulled the new, metal forearm crutches out fully and ran his hands over them. Loki looked at Steve, shock written over his face. "I—I'm lost for words... thank you, Steve."

_Stevestevesteve, hecalledmeSteve._

"No problem. Hopefully that'll solve the armpit-pain problem" Steve clapped his hand down on Loki's shoulder awkwardly. "Well, I'd better go to work. Call me if you have trouble with them and I'll do my best to help over the phone. And Mrs Wilson's number is on the fridge, remember? If you want company. I'll be home early today, at about 3."

Loki nodded, still staring at his new crutches. Steve drew his eyebrows together and cleared his throat. Loki looked up at him. He picked up the old, wooden crutches from beside him and slung them over his shoulder. "I'll take these back too. See you in a couple hours, Lokes."

He winced at the involuntary nickname.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's alright. I don't mind, really. Tony used to call me that."

Okay, that was pretty embarrassing—calling his crush something his ex used to call him. To be honest, Steve was deeply confused by Loki's relatively politeness that morning, but didn't bother saying anything, lest Loki become a giant asshole again.

"But don't get used to it, Rogers," Loki snapped. "I despise nicknames."

Steve smiled. _Ah, there we go_.

He went over to his sneakers that were lying by the door. He checked his watch, which said he was 20 minutes late. Steve sighed in annoyance and slipped his feet into the shoes before crying out and yanking them back out. He inspected his now pink socks.

"_Care to explain why there is jam in my only good pair of shoes?" _He shouted.

Loki laughed.

* * *

Despite the brutality of it all, it only took a few more exchanges of pranks to finally break the ice between the pair. Loki became more polite and sincere, even helping Steve keep the apartment clean. Every morning, Steve would wake up on the futon to see Loki cooking breakfast or a piping hot cup of coffee waiting for him. And Steve returned the favour by helping Loki in the little ways he could. He tucked him into bed at night when he was too tired to lug himself in there, he bought him some thick, woolen socks to keep his feet warm and a body pillow to cushion his leg, things like that.

They were really starting to get along. If you didn't know them beforehand, you could swear they were even a couple.

(Steve sometimes even imagined that they were.)

They settled into a little routine together. Steve found that he functioned better with a routine and to his surprise, so did Loki. For some reason he had thought that Loki's life was fuelled by chaos. He seemed to enjoy stirring up mayhem. But it seemed Loki needed some kind of normalcy in his life as well.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, the days Steve had off, they would go out to lunch together at the café on the corner of the street. The coffee was bitter, but the focaccias were divine and the view of the park and buildings around them was stunning. Steve would pretend to draw the towers while Loki sipped on his Coke, when he was really sketching him. The café also had free wifi, much to Loki's pleasure, but Steve didn't really understand how to connect his phone up so he didn't bother. He wasn't the best with technology.

Friday nights were movie night, where the two would curl up on the couch together and watch shitty movies. Steve's place was on the far right side. Loki usually rested his head in Steve's lap, with his leg lying on the opposite armrest. Steve would card his hand through the thick, raven hair and twirl it around his fingers. Loki would always end up falling asleep during the movie and Steve would always move him into a more comfortable position and give him a blanket to sleep under.

Steve even caught himself pressing a kiss to Loki's forehead while wishing him a good night once. It seemed he wasn't handling the ever-growing and inappropriate crush on his roommate very well.

Only a couple of weeks after Loki's gift, the man himself had woken him up.

"Wha-huh?" He blinked sluggishly and rubbed his eyes.

"Charming," Loki said, grinning widely. He stood at the foot of the couch, leaning on his brand new crutches. He was already dressed in track pants and a tight, long-sleeve shirt, his hair left loose. "Love the bed hair, by the way."

Steve scowled. "Well you _did _just wake me up while I was fast asleep."

"So I did. It's 10am by the way. You were supposed to have been at work an hour ago."

The blonde man shot up in bed, before he got tangled in the bed sheets and fell onto the carpeted floor. He groaned in annoyance. Loki hopped over to his roommate. He leant down next to him.

"You're not really late. I just said that to see your reaction. And I must say that it was worth it." He stood back up straight. "I can't believe you actually fell for that." He burst out laughing. "It's Sunday morning, Rogers."

Steve gave him the evil eye, but Loki didn't care for it. He sat up on the floor and winced at the pain in his neck. The futon was much too small for him to sleep comfortably on it. He was really missing his bed now.

"God, I hate that couch," he muttered. He pressed his fingers into his neck and massaged deeply.

"If it's _oh, so uncomfortable_," Loki said, mockingly. "Then just share your bed with me."

Steve whipped his head around to him, making his neck scream. "Ow... wait what? Me, sleeping with... you?"

Loki scoffed and ran an arm across his temple. "You don't need to make it sound so seedy. We are grown men and thus, mature enough to share. At least, _I_ am. Do you accept my offer?"

"Um..." Steve drew his eyebrows together. "If you don't mind, I guess." He blushed deeply. _He and Loki would be sleeping together._

A snort erupted from Loki. "For god's sake, Rogers. Your ears have gone as red as cherries. Pull it together." With a wink that made Steve stutter his breath, he turned and flounced back into the kitchen as best as he could with a cast on his leg and crutches.

Sleeping in the same bed wasn't as awkward as Steve thought it would be. Loki gave him enough room, as he tended to curl into a fetal position, although he was a blanket hog. However, Steve wasn't the only one with issues. Quite often Loki would have bad dreams and would mutter things in his sleep.

In fact, one late night after Steve had brushed his teeth and gotten changed, he had come into the bedroom to see Loki tossing and turning, tears running down his face. He quickly moved over there and put a hand on Loki's broken knee, gently steadying the limb so he wouldn't fracture it further. The raven-haired man seemed to be in a deep sleep, as he didn't rouse from his slumber, only stilling slightly. His mumbling and whining continued.

Steve leant down to position his ear near Loki's lips, to listen to what he was saying. "Tony... no, I'm sorry. Tony, no. Please. I won't do it again, I promise. Don't leave me...!" He withdrew, his mouth turning into a hard line. He probably should wake Loki up. He moved his hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but then Loki started scratching intensely at his arms. Steve was starting to panic a little.

"I'm clean!" He cried out. "I'm clean, Tony...! I promise. It was just a slip-up; I just needed a bit... I needed a bit to make the pain go away..." Loki's mumblings were getting louder, but then he stilled in his writhing and mutilating of his arms. He curled into a ball with his broken leg stretched out in a long line and started shivering. It was only moments later that he was fast asleep again.

The youth worker sat on the bed, in the dark, and watched Loki sleep for a long while, just to make sure he was okay. Even though he knew he was fast asleep.

And even though he was dreaming of his ex-boyfriend and not himself.

* * *

Seven Fridays after Loki had moved in, it was movie night and a crappy rom-com was playing on the television. Steve was filled with happiness and he couldn't stop smiling. Loki was lying in his lap, curled up against his side and had an arm strewn across Steve's hips. The blonde played with the other man's hair absent-mindedly. The rain bucketed outside.

Loki scoffed at the woman appearing on the screen. "This movie might be the worst we've watched together yet."

"Mm-hmm," Steve agreed, nodding. He smiled down at his roommate, which to his surprise, was looking back up at him. He blushed dark red.

Two empty bottles of red wine lay on the floor. Steve was not completely truthful when he said he had no alcohol and the two decided there was no time like the present to indulge in a bit of pleasure. He had mostly lied to Loki about the no-alcohol rule because his past drug problem, but after getting to know him, he knew he could trust him with a little bit of wine.

"Hey do you want to do something fun?" Loki picked up the remote and muted the television. His voice was slurring a little, but it wasn't completely noticeable.

Steve was taken aback. "What kind of fun...?" He thought he was feeling a little drunk too.

"Oh, Steve you are so innocent," Loki sniggered. He awkwardly maneuvered himself into an upright position, sitting up next to Steve with his leg propped onto the coffee table. Steve nearly whimpered at the loss of Loki's weight in his lap. "My friends and I at high school used to play something called the Secret Game. You ever heard of it?"

"Can't say I have."

"Well, basically each player has to tell a secret to each other, one after the next," Loki explained. His eyes twinkled. "The rule is that there's no questioning the other of what they say, just answer with a secret. And you can't ask them about it after the game, either. It's completely confidential. You in?"

Steve pursed his lips. Was it a good idea? Definitely not. Did he want to do it? Like nothing else before. "Sure, I'll give it a go. You start."

Loki let a smile play on his lips. "Okay. I started wearing heels and skirts when I was in the 2nd grade and never grew out of the habit."

His cheek grew hot. "What—?"

"Ah-ah-ah, no questioning." Loki twitched a finger at him in chastisement. He smirked. "Your turn."

"Umm..." Steve thought for a while. "Do the secrets have to be deep and meaningful?"

"Nope, anything."

"Okay... I used to think that spaghetti was pronounced "sketti" until the 4th grade."

Loki smiled brightly; clearly glad he had joined in the game. "I couldn't read the time until middle school"

"I used to pretend I was a superhero called Captain America."

"I'm totally and utterly homosexual."

Steve's eyes widened. He clenched a fist tighter around the wine glass in his hand. "I've had the biggest crush on you ever since we met at the supermarket," he blurted. Crap.

Loki didn't seem to notice though. He was blinking slowly and swaying in his seat. He was totally drunk. But he kept the game going, anyway. "I always say that my favourite band is Soundgarden but it's really the Beatles. I love their song 'Blackbird'."

"People say that my favourite colour is blue, which is true, but I'm growing fond of green."

"Love Game by Lady Gaga is the song I love to have sex to."

"I was a virgin until I was 19."

"I wanted to be an ice dancer when I was a kid, but when I got close to graduating I was going to be a lawyer."

"I got beat up in an alleyway in Brooklyn once."

"My first real boyfriend was Tony and I'm still not over him."

"I was angry with my boyfriend when he first enlisted and didn't support him. I feel like it was the greatest mistake of my life."

Silence.

"Er... Loki? It's your turn."

Steve felt something press up against his shoulder. He looked down to see Loki fast asleep, his mouth slightly hanging open and hair drooping over his face. Steve watched him snore for a while longer. Then he started giggling and then kissed the bridge of Loki's nose. "Good night, Blackbird." Steve tugged on a lock of black hair.

Yep, they were totally drunk.

* * *

It was late when Steve gets home the Tuesday after that. The traffic was hell and he had to pick up groceries for the two of them. He made his way up the stairs, his arms aching from the weight of the bags. He fumbled with his keys, unlocking the door.

"Hey," he called into the room, dragging in the bags. Steve cast a glance toward the couch, expecting Loki to be lounging around and ready to complain about dinner not arriving.

When he didn't see Loki there he hummed in wonder. "Um... sorry I'm late. Traffic was worse than usual." Finally, he spotted the dark haired man beside the kitchen door. Loki stood in front of the bookcase with his crutches. Even from across the room, Steve could see what he held in one of his hands.

Steve pursed his lips and then walked into the kitchen, brushing past Loki. He deposited the bags onto the counter and tossed his keys next to them. By the time he came out of the kitchen, Loki was looking up at him, his eyes wide. He looked back down at the photo.

"Who's this?" he asked, sweeping his fingers over the glass.

Steve sighed and took hold of the picture frame, looking at it fondly. It's Bucky of course. It's photograph of him just before he went off to fight—he's smiling widely and has his arm slung around a 19-year-old Steve's shoulders. Bucky wore his uniform; he remembers how it had scratched against his face as they hugged for the last time before Bucky left. Steve's grip tightens.

"My... my friend, Bucky," he muttered. "Well, he was my boyfriend."

"Was?" Loki whispered.

Steve looked up at Loki. "He died a year ago. In the war."

Loki cast his eyes back down at the photo. "Oh." He gulped and adjusted his crutches. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Steve smiled at Loki. "Thanks," he said, quietly. He felt his voice wobbling. He swept a hand over his face; his palm slickening with the tears that filled his eyes and blurred his vision. "I—I loved him very much. We were together for six years. Had a long distance relationship while he was fighting. We bought this place with the money we scraped together, and planned to adopt a dog and get married when he came back." Steve swallowed. "Then I got the letter. And he was gone. And I was alone." He looked to Loki, whose mouth was open slightly. His own green eyes glistened.

"We grew up together. He was my best friend before he became my boyfriend. I got bullied a lot because I was really skinny and small—no, really, I was. I was an asthmatic, sick all the time. It made me a target. But Bucky always looked out for me and we were always there for each other. I realized I was in love with him when I was 17 and two years later, we started dating. He was the love of my life.

"And he's gone now. He got his arm blown off and died of blood loss alone. No one was with him, Loki. He died alone in the middle of a war and I wasn't there." Loki placed a cold, thin hand on his arm and brushed his thumb across his wrist.

He put the picture back on the bookcase, not daring to make eye contact with Loki. He could feel the other man's eyes glued to him. "Look, why don't you get started on dinner. I just need a moment."

Before Loki could say anything, Steve walked away into their bedroom, the door shutting behind him. The door didn't silence his sobs.

* * *

Steve fell asleep quite quickly that night. The crying had exhausted him. He didn't even come out of his room for dinner. Loki didn't complain though and he was left alone. He stared listlessly at the clock shining "11:32" onto his face, his eyes absorbing the light. He felt hollow; numb. Steve's throat was closed up and his eyes dry. Crying was horrible.

He turned over to his other side and shut his eyes, willing himself to sleep. But sleep didn't come.

Loki still wasn't in bed yet. Was he sleeping in the lounge room? He hoped not. He didn't want to go to sleep alone and wake up by himself. That would just make him more depressed.

Had he really told Loki about Bucky? Steve sighed heavily and rolled onto his back. Bucky was a deep, emotional issue for Steve. He hadn't spoken of his passing ever since he'd gotten the letter, and he'd burned the evidence in his fireplace. _It never happened,_ he kept telling himself. _Bucky survived. He's fighting right now, and he's coming home soon. And we're going to get married_. He'd been in denial for months.

And then Loki came along...

_And you're crushing on him. _Another voice whispered. _You're betraying Bucky with Loki. You're cheating on the love of your life._

"No, I'm not," he whispered loudly. "It's just a crush. We're just friends."

The door creaked open and Steve jumped. He looked over to see Loki standing over his crutches at the door, his body bathed in a florescent glow.

"Steve?" Loki tentatively hissed. "It's time for bed. May I come in?"

"Of course, Loki," Steve replied. _Cheating... _the voice snapped. _You're cheating on him with a whore_. He shook his head.

Loki turned off the light, letting the room get enveloped in the dark. Steve breathed heavily. The metal crutches tapped loudly as Loki hopped through the room toward the bed. He set them down carefully and then shuffled onto the bed. Steve moved over for him and helped him put his leg on the body pillow.

The two men settled down into bed, each having their own separate side.

"I've never told anyone this before," Loki whispered. His voice was thick and Steve could feel him playing with his fingers under the covers, nervously. He stayed silent and waited for Loki to go on. "I was eighteen, just a kid. I had just dropped out of school and gone into prostitution full time. I was dependent on my drugs. My family was close to disowning me and was threatening rehab. I'd actually gotten my own shitty apartment with about 3 other roommates. It was a horrible time for me.

"I had the day off. I was walking down the street on a busy day when Tony, a complete stranger at the time, ran into me and spilt hot coffee all down my shirt. To be frank, I was furious. But he was nice enough and offered to take me into the nearest store—Prada, no less—and get me a new shirt. I accepted and he helped me pick out an appropriate one.

"Well, you know me. I flirted with him a lot, stripped off my shirt multiple times and tried different ones one, asking for his opinion. It worked, because when I said that my pants were wet and started taking my them off, we fucked against the wall of the changing stall." Loki's voice trailed into a laugh, a happy one. Not condescending—just genuinely happy. Steve smiled crookedly even thought it felt like his heart was tearing in half to hear him talk about someone so lovingly.

"I moved in with him a few months later. We were even engaged to be married..." his voice faded away.

Loki was silent for a while. Steve wondered if it was the end of the story.

"And then I lost him, he couldn't handle my habits any more," he said in a croaky tone. He whispered, "I didn't want this to happen, I didn't think it'd get this far. I just wanted to try some. I was a stupid kid. I fucked up my life, Steve. I fucked it all up."

Loki sobbed harshly. Instantly, Steve rolled over and gathered Loki to his bare chest, curling his muscular arms around him. Loki buried himself into Steve's torso, nuzzling into him before letting his tears flow. Steve felt tears drip down his skin and he held him even closer. He cried, and Steve soon followed.

Hot, salty tears tracked down their faces as they pressed their foreheads together and hugged each other tightly, as if they were afraid to let go. Afraid to lose each other. Afraid to be alone.

The two broken men let their pain pour out in the form of tears, their broken hearts throbbing with pain. They clung to each other desperately. They were each other's weight to the world. Without one another, they would have been truly lost.

* * *

**Notes:**

Thank you, thank you, **thank you** to my dear friend and beta, Yara. Without you this story wouldn't be what it is! I love you, darling 3  
Please, please leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed :)


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